Love Me, Love Me Not
by PrincessBellePrinceAdam
Summary: [Operation Overdrive] In an attempt to win Rose's heart, Mack leaves her a series of poems.  The problem? She thinks it's the charming young author Darren Washington.  Rock and Roll story.
1. The Plan

**Love Me, Love Me Not**

Ronny Robinson walked into the lounge in the Hartford estate and was surprised by what she saw. Mack Hartford, red Overdrive ranger, was sitting idly on one of the orange sofas, and instead of reading or building one of his model airplanes, he was staring dreamily off into space.

"Hello, earth to Mack," said the yellow ranger, waving a hand in front of Mack's blue eyes. "What's eating you, Hartford?" Mack snapped back to reality, looking his teammate up and down slowly.

"Ronny…you're a girl," Mack said, as if it were just now dawning on him. The yellow ranger's eyes widened.

"Oh, well spotted there, Mack," she snapped. "Yes, I'm a girl. What does that have to do with anything?"

"You're not a girly girl though…but I bet you could still help me. Yeah. You could." Mack stared off into space again, trying to find the right phrasing for his request.

"Help with what?" asked Ronny curiously. She wondered what he could possibly need a woman's opinion on. She was intrigued, very intrigued. Ronny stared at him expectantly. What came next was not exactly what she had had in mind.

"How do I get Rose to notice me?"

She smiled. "I'm sure Rose notices you. She's not blind, you know. She's had to notice that you run around in red spandex saving people all day."

"No…I mean, I want Rose to notice me, notice me, as more than just a teammate or a friend. Like a…"

"A boyfriend?" asked Ronny. "That's cute. Really it is. Of course I'll help." She thought for a moment. "Well, there's nothing any girl loves more than a sweet, thoughtful guy. And of course a little bit of romance never hurts. The fact that you two are already close friends is an advantage. Now, what's one of Rose's specific interests, Mack?"

Mack said the very first thing that came to his mind. "School."

"You're not thinking specifically enough, Mack. School is too general. Pick something else."

"Rose likes poetry," offered Mack a minute later. "'Two roads diverge in a wood,'" he quoted. He scrubbed a hand through his messy brown curls, pondering.

"That's perfect," declared the yellow ranger. "Poetry. Of course."

"So you're saying I should just buy Rose a book of poetry or something?" Mack questioned.

"No, no, no, you idiot. Anyone could _buy_ her something. And Rose probably wouldn't be all that impressed by something store bought. Think of something romantic that has to do with poetry."

Mack's eyebrows knit themselves together as he tried to connect the dots. "I could write her a poem, I guess. Do you think that would work?"

"Yes, that's perfect. Rose would just love that. Really she would. Maybe you could even leave her a series of poems and try to make her figure out who her little secret admirer is. It's thoughtful and sweet and mysterious. It's exactly the kind of thing Rose would absolutely adore. And you guys think girls are so hard to please."

Mack nodded, enthusiastic about this plan. It was fool proof, and even though it might have been a bit mushy, Rose would probably love it. Ronny was a girl, after all. She knew how the female mind worked. If anyone could help him get Rose's heart, it was Ronny. "Thanks, Ronny. You're a lifesaver." He unfolded himself from the couch and started towards his room, completely determined to complete his own personal mission of capturing Rose's heart.


	2. The Author

**Love Me, Love Me Not**

Rose Ortiz looked at the now empty cappuccino cup, frowning at the lack of contents. She ordered herself another from the bookstore café and then headed into one of her favorite sections: New Fiction. And there it was, that horrible book she'd read, now out in paperback format.

She didn't understand how the top newspapers and magazines in the country had given said book, _Letters to Sydney_ such great reviews. It had given Rose quite a headache. She mumbled as much to herself. Rose was quite surprised when someone gave a loud false cough from somewhere behind her. She spun around to see who had interrupted her little rant.

The pink ranger was greeted by a relatively good looking guy, a couple years older than her, with bright blue eyes and light brown hair. He was several inches taller than her (who wasn't?) and it was his quirky little smile that reminded her of someone else she knew.

Her red ranger, perhaps?

"Can I help you with something?" asked Rose. She took another sip of her coffee, looking at the mystery guy as if he were boring her. Annoyingly, Mystery Man just laughed in her general direction. He strolled over to her, picking up a copy of the book.

"If I may ask, Ms. Ortiz, what exactly is wrong with said book? I found it a refreshing romantic novel with plenty of action and suspense when it tells of how Sydney's beloved Colonel Tate fares in the Civil War. The reader gets to see exactly what the extent of love Sydney and Tate have for each other is, and it's got facts about an important time in American history. How could you not enjoy it?"

Rose was still shocked that he had recognized her, let alone the skill with which he discussed literature. Again, she was reminded of someone else she knew, but that wasn't important at the moment. She shook her head in disbelief, ready to attack _Letters to Sydney._ "First of all, Sydney's class would never allow her to even talk to Colonel Tate. She was 'above' him. And second, there were maybe three facts that have really been proven used in this piece of garbage. Everything else is just what historians have surmised. How Darren Washington could ever be names the best new writer of the year I'll never understand."

Mystery Man nodded. "Well, Ms. Ortiz, I'm rather impressed. I'll definitely keep those points you just made in mind when I start writing my next historical novel." He held out a hand. "Darren Washington."

Rose's brown eyes widened. How mortified she was right now. She had just insulted a book right to its author's face. She felt two spots of red appear in her cheeks. He laughed again.

"Don't be embarrassed. You make a lot of good points, Ms. Ortiz. I'm not insulted or anything. I like constructive criticism." Seeing that Rose was still not going to shake his hand, Darren withdrew it, thinking. "There's a book signing here for _Letters to Sydney_ in one week. You should come by. Maybe I could get you an early addition of the novel I have due out in two months, _Crane and Falcon_."

"S…sure," Rose stuttered. "I'll come by. Definitely."

"Unless you're too busy saving the world again, that is. In that case I'll forgive you. See you around, Ms. Ortiz."

Darren started walking away. "You can call me Rose!" she yelled after him. He turned, flashing that charming, familiar smile at her again.

"Rose, then. Rose," he repeated.

When she couldn't see him anymore, Rose turned back to the bookshelf. She examined the cover of _Letters to Sydney_, marveling at the impossible beauty of the title character, who was embracing a gorgeous man in a Civil War uniform. Rose sighed softly. She was still a girl, even under all that black she wore. Just another curious teenage girl, who, even though she hated to admit it, wanted a little bit of romance in her life.

--

So that was why the next day when the rangers got back from another training session and Rose went to her room, ready to collapse on her bed and give _Letters to Sydney_ another try and instead found a little scrap of paper folded up on the pillow, she actually squealed.

Eagerly, Rose snatched up the paper and unfolded it, finding a sweet little…love poem. And further puzzling was that it was neatly typed up, making it impossible to see who it was from. But it had to be from Darren. It had to be. He'd seemed kind of sweet and a gentleman during their brief encounter, so obviously he'd had had it delivered to the manor for her. The pink ranger squealed again, louder than she'd intended, because Ronny came racing into her room.

"What?" asked Ronny, even though she obviously knew what was going on. She'd given Mack the idea after all. "What's that?" She wiggled her eyebrows at her suggestively. "Is it a _love_ poem?" Rose nodded happily, reading the poem again.

"It's just the sweetest thing in the whole world," declared Rose. "Really. Who does stuff like this anymore?"

"I bet it was a certain guy with blue eyes that sent it to you," Ronny prompted, but Rose wasn't really paying attention. Her head was filled with nothing but the words of the poem.

**A/N: Can you spot the hints of other ranger couples I like? There's a few.**


	3. In Which Rose Isn't Herself

**Love Me, Love Me Not**

Rose was rereading her poem for the billionth time, sighing dreamily. She was sprawled out on her bed, holding the paper above her head, fantasizing about how cute Darren must have looked while writing it. She could just imagine him at a desk in his hotel room, brow furrowed in adorable concentration.

"I'm in love," she told herself happily. "And to think that it all happened when I was insulting somebody." Rose sighed again. She'd never felt more special and wanted in her whole life. It felt wonderful to be so…romanced…in such an old fashioned way. Her sweet, sweet Darren. She giggled, knowing her thoughts were silly. He wasn't hers; he didn't even know that the sweet words he'd penned had made her fall for him. "Oh, but he will be mine," Rose promised herself.

She picked up her copy of Darren's book, which she had decided she liked after all, now that she obviously had someone to have a relationship with. Her rational side screamed at her that there was no relationship, just that brief encounter, trying and failing to remind her that before she'd met him she'd had feelings for someone else who looked eerily similar to Darren. She didn't listen. For once she wanted to go with her heart, not her brain. How could she not love such a sweet guy? "I feel your pain, Sydney. It must suck to be so far away from the man you love." Rose got off of her bed, book still in her hands, and headed downstairs. She sat on one of the orange couches in the lounge and opened _Letters to Sydney._

"Hey Rose," greeted Ronny as she came in, closely followed by Will. The latter had headphones in his ears. The yellow and black rangers plopped down on the couch opposite hers.

"Hi," Rose said without looking up. "I'm reading. Don't talk to me." Ronny made a face; she'd been planning on prodding Rose into realization that Mack had written the sweet little poem. Frowning, the yellow ranger leaned sideways against Will. He looked down at her with a smile, but didn't say anything.

Mack and Dax joined the group, Mack looking at Rose intently, perhaps trying to guess if she had figured out he had sent her the poem yet. Ronny had reported to him that Rose had definitely received his sappy if thoughtful gift, but she said Rose wouldn't give her any clue as to who she thought had sent it. The blue ranger took the armchair, leaving Mack to take a seat near Rose. He glanced at the cover of her book.

"I thought you said you hated that book, Rose. We had a good laugh about it." He sounded confused. Rose shut her book and looked at her red counterpart.

"I'm entitled to change my mind, Mack," she said coolly. "Not a crime, is it?" Mack frowned.

"Well yeah, of course you can change your mind." Mack looked over at Ronny, who merely shrugged. He sighed and turned his attention back to Rose. Could she have guessed that he had sent her the poem? She couldn't possibly be mad at him, could she? He hoped not, especially as he had another one folded up in his pocket.

"Rangers, Mr. Hartford requests your presence in the command center. He has found the next piece in the puzzle and is sending the lot of you off to Greece," announced Spencer.

"Cool," said Dax, jumping up. "Let's get going."

Rose looked disappointed that she had to put her book down, but she did, placing a bookmark in carefully. Mack waited until she had gone before opening said book and slipping his poem in instead of the bookmark. He smiled slightly. "Coming, Mack?" asked Rose, sticking her head in again.

"Yep." He unfolded himself from the couch and followed his teammates down to the base.

--

One wild goose chase later, Rose returned to the lounge and picked up her book. Opening it, another piece of folded paper fell out of the pages. Rose let a happy smile fill her face. "He sent me another poem," she murmured.

This one was even sweeter than the first. Still smiling, Rose let her book shut, rereading the new poem a second time, and a third. When the yellow ranger came in Rose was still reading.

"Ooh, another love poem from your secret admirer?" teased Ronny. "You sure are lusted after, aren't you Rose?" To Ronny's surprise, Rose just kept smiling. Ronny was sure Rose had smiled more in the past few days than she had in all the time since they had become rangers. "You up for some girl talk, pinky?"

"Sure," replied Rose, finally looking away from her poem, thought Ronny noted she kept it clenched tightly in her hand. "What's up?"

"Well, I think I have a crush on this guy. I've known him for awhile now, and he's funny and really…confident, and very good looking. And I'm pretty sure he likes me too. I'm not shy by any means, you know that, but when I'm around Will…"

"I see. I know what you mean, Ronny. I have a crush too."

"On your secret admirer? Because he seems like he's just really sweet. Like you said, not a lot of guys would do something nice like that. He must be something special."

"I certainly think he is," Rose agreed. "But I don't really know him well. The first time I met him I actually insulted him. But then he does something like this and I guess I didn't scare him off after all."

"No, I guess you didn't," Ronny said, trying to remember when Rose had insulted Mack on that first crazy day in the Hartford estate. "You really didn't, Rose. He's head over heels for you."

"Wait…how did you know who I think it is?" Rose asked. "I don't think I told you."

"Um…no," Ronny said quickly. "Why don't you, uh, describe him for me?" She tried to look as if she was really interested in hearing the love struck Rose fawn over Mack's looks.

"He's tall," Rose began in such a sugary, un-Rose like tone that Ronny was certain she was going to be sick, "And he has light brown hair and these amazing blue…" Her voice trailed off when she noticed Mack standing in the doorway.

"What are you two talking about?" asked the red ranger curiously. "Amazing blue whats?"

"Shoes," Rose said quickly. "Anyway, Ronny, I'm off to get some reading done. We'll have some more girl talk later, OK?" But before Ronny could even say anything, Rose had already gone.


	4. Heartbroken

**Love Me, Love Me Not**

Mack smiled confidently as he hung up the phone. He'd just finished ordering two dozen pink carnations, enclosing an invitation for Rose to meet him at the bookstore instead of another poem. Since he'd walked in on Rose and Ronny's strange conversation about shoes, he'd written Rose two more poems. Now he was planning on revealing himself.

He wondered if she would be happy that it was him who had been romancing her or if she would be disappointed, thinking it had been someone else. Mack was pretty sure she'd be the former, seeing as how she took all four poems around with her in her uniform pocket.

Ronny still told him she had no clue as to who Rose thought her secret admirer was, saying Rose refused to give a name to the 'mysterious' guy. Mack found this frustrating, but all the better to surprise her should she meet him at the café in the bookstore. He knew Rose, and he knew she would come. All he could hope for was that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

Mack allowed himself to imagine exactly what was going to happen when he confessed to sending her the poems. He'd watch her come in and call her name as she passed. She'd smile at him and say she was waiting for someone. He'd tell her he already knew that and then he'd recite one of the stanzas from one of the poems. Rose's brown eyes would sparkle the way they did when she was rereading one of his poems, and then she'd throw herself into his arms and thank him.

He was still fantasizing about this when who should come into the room but Rose, her pretty face buried in that silly romance novel, _Letters to Sydney_. She didn't say anything by way of greeting, just plopped down and turned a page as she went.

"Nice to see you too, Rose," he commented, subtly scooting closer to her. She didn't look up. "So, what made you change your mind about the Civil War soap opera masquerading as a book?" Mack asked, determined to engage her in conversation.

Rose finally looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. "It's beautifully written, Mack. The clever turns of phrase and the passion of the language might be a 'soap opera' but still, I have to appreciate the words if not the actual story. Perhaps if more guys weren't afraid to pour their hearts out on paper you might understand Tate's position better."

Mack blinked.

--

The following day, Rose was curled up on an orange couch yet again, daydreaming. She was still doing so when Spencer came in with a huge red vase filled with pink carnations. "Delivery, Rose," he announced unnecessarily. "Seems your secret admirer is not going to limit himself to poems." The butler took a tiny envelope out of his pocket. "This came with your flowers. There is most likely a clue to the young man's identity printed somewhere."

"Wow," Rose breathed. "They're beautiful." She took the envelope from Spencer and drew out a tiny pink card. She read it immediately, desperately wanting to discover whether or not Darren was the author of the poems.

_Rose,_

_I'm sure by now you're anxious to discover who I am. So, if you want to see me, I'll be at our favorite bookstore tomorrow around three in the afternoon. Whether you accept me or reject me, I'll always be yours._

_P.S. I'll be in red._

She beamed happily. Tomorrow she would see the sweet guy who had romanced her. And, Rose remembered, tomorrow was the day of Darren's book signing. The mystery writer had to be him. She could hardly wait.

--

"OK, Mack, you can do this. You can do this. Even if she doesn't want you, it's still Rose. She'll keep it to herself. You can do this," Mack said to himself as he sipped his coffee. He was still waiting for his pink ranger to show up, but it was only ten til three. She'd come.

And suddenly there she was, dressed simply in a black tank top scattered with pink polka dots and a short black skirt. She looked very nice, serving only to make Mack even more nervous than he already was. "Hey, Rose," Mack called. "Want a free coffee?" He waved the cappuccino he'd bought for Rose in her general direction.

Rose smiled and went to the table he was sitting at. "Thanks Mack," she said, and took a sip. "This is my favorite flavor. Lucky guess?"

"No, I just remember things." He pretended to check his watch. "What are you doing here? More romance novels calling your name?"

Rose laughed, and a slight blush stained her cheeks. "I'm actually waiting for someone. It's kind of silly, but it's sweet and special at the same time. You know those little poems I've been getting? I'm meeting Darren here, the guy who wrote them."

Mack, who had been smiling as Rose went into her explanation, suddenly looked heartbroken. "Rose," he began, "Darren didn't write the poems for you. I did."

"Oh very funny, Mack. Look, you're my friend, so you should be happy that I found Darren. Quit joking with me. It's not amusing."

Mack's face crumpled with hurt. "I'm not joking around with you, Rose. I would never joke about that. I really did write the poems for you." And he proceeded to recite one of the poems in its entirety. Rose stared at him in disbelief.

"I can't believe you would read something that special and private, Mack. I can't believe you would just sit here and mock me because Darren was thoughtful and romantic enough to pour his heart and soul out to me. I can't believe you'd be that shallow and hurt me like this!"

"I would never hurt you Rose. In all honesty I would rather die than hurt you." Mack reached across the table for her hand. She snatched it away. She stood up in a hurry, knocking over her chair in the process. She looked down at him, hurt and anger in her eyes, shook her head and turned on her heel and strode through the store.

She saw a crowd gathered in the back of the store, most of them in line for a table, behind which sat Darren. Darren would fix this, she knew he would. He'd tell the crowd of fans to

leave so he could have some privacy with her, pull her into his arms and kiss her and say everything was all right now.

"Darren, who's this charming lady friend of yours?" called a man who appeared to be a reporter. Rose looked around –she knew the reporter hadn't seen her- and saw for the first time that an attractive brunette was sitting beside Darren, gripping his hand. Rose felt her hackles rise as the brunette giggled and rested her head on Darren's shoulder.

"My fiancée, Amy," answered Darren, and Rose felt her heart break. She turned and ran through the store again, realizing as she went that Darren had been wearing a black shirt and Mack had been wearing red, just as her note had said.


	5. The End

**Love Me, Love Me Not**

Rose ran out of the store like a woman possessed, tears streaming out of her brown eyes. She got into her car and drove to the beach, thinking no one would follow her. How very wrong she was.

He let her sink onto the sand and have a few moments for herself. He'd never seen Rose cry before, and it seemed so unlike her. It was so unlike her that it scared him, but he let that go. When he'd checked that she had wiped her eyes, Mack strolled over to her and sat down beside her.

"I'm the last person you want to see right now, I'm sure of that." Rose nodded, silent, staring out at the crashing waves forlornly. He looked at her sadly. "But I also think you need someone to talk to."

"What's there to talk about, Mack? I got in over my head, I jumped to conclusions and I got my heart broken. I'm not the first girl it's ever happened to."

"Rose…" Mack said quietly, "I'm sorry that he hurt you the way he did. I wish I could have stopped it."

Rose stared at him in disbelief. "It's not your fault, Mack. Don't apologize for how stupidly _I _acted."

"You're not stupid, Rose, nothing you do is stupid. If anyone was foolish it was me. I'm the one who couldn't even tell you that I lo- I mean, like you without leaving you little anonymous poems. I should have just told you."

Rose shook her head. "Your heart was in the right place, Mack. It was a sweet idea and it really did work…I just got the wrong person pegged as the writer." She closed her eyes.

Mack shrugged, and then, almost tentatively, wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He was surprised, but really rather pleased, when she relaxed into his grip and leaned in closer to him. "I should have listened to you, Mack. I should have known you were telling me the truth; you always tell me the truth."

"It's OK, Rose. I accept that you don't like me in any way other than a friend. I understand. I won't tell anyone about Darren if you don't want me to."

"You should tell everyone. It would serve me right for being so foolish and cruel to you. I almost deserve it, don't I, Mack?"" He just shook his head.

"No one deserves to hurt, Rose. I'm sorry that you didn't listen, but I won't spread it around."

Rose heaved a miserable-sounding sigh. She rested her head on Mack's shoulder, inhaling his clean boy scent. "I don't even know what I saw in Darren, Mack. I only talked to him that one time, and we argued about his stupid romance novel."

Mack thought for a few moments. "Well, he's older for one, and he's probably got some 'life' experience, and being able to debate about shared interests is probably a good thing. You wouldn't want to be agreeing all the time, I'm sure."

Rose smiled in spite of herself, knowing that Mack was only trying to make her feel better. What a wonderful person, she thought idly…what a wonderful boyfriend he'd make. '_Not that he'd want to let me hurt him again,' _she added bitterly. She sighed once more. "I think it was more him reminding me of someone…" She studied Mack's profile for a moment.

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm sorry you ended up with eh short end of the stick. I really hate to see you like this, Rose."

But Rose was too busy trying to process the realization she'd just come to. "It was you, Mack. It was you all along and I never even thought about it."

"What are you talking about, Rose?"

Rose took his face in her hands. "It was you, Mack. The whole time…" She beamed at him happily. "It was you…he reminded me of you." Mack raised an eyebrow, and Rose, still grinning, decided to explain a little bit more. "I kept thinking about someone when I talked to him. Same messy hair, same smile…same blue eyes. You two could be brothers."

Mack smiled, lifting his hands to cover her own. "So you're saying that you had the same feelings for me the whole time and you didn't even know it? No wonder guys can never figure out how to make girls happy."

Rose laughed. "I guess I did. Life is funny like that, isn't it?" Mack nodded, removing her hands from his face, looking at her like she was the only other person on earth. He slipped his fingers through hers, leaning in very close to her. She shivered as his breath hit her ear.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. Rose had barely nodded when his lips found hers, softly at first, and then more intensely when Rose responded by leaning against him, her free hand balling into a fist in his hair. She smiled against him.

Mack pulled away first, still holding her close to him, one hand stroking her hair. "I can't see why he'd pick her over you, Rose. I'd choose you any day." He smiled sweetly and pecked the top of Rose's head. "You taste delicious, you know." Rose laughed quietly.

"Oh, and what do I taste like?"

"Coffee," Mack answered promptly. "Did I ever mention that I absolutely adore coffee?" He stopped playing with her hair, moving his hands to her stomach and tickling her. It was so nice to hear her laugh again.

"Stop," Rose protested breathlessly, trying to wiggle away from him. "Really. I mean it, Mack. Stop." He pretended to pout. "I have to apologize for being so rude to you earlier. I said some things that I truly didn't mean." And suddenly the happiness in her eyes vanished. "Mack, what are we doing here? Pretending everything is OK between us and acting like a…couple."

"Rose, I don't think you need to apologize. We're all a little blind when it comes to our hearts. Just let it be." He grinned his silly Mack smile, "And as for being a couple, I'm game if you are."

"I have an idea, Mack. Come on!"

--

"Are you sure about this, Rose?" Mack asked through the Tracker to his pink ranger, who was currently sitting in his zord waiting to go through with her plan. He looked at the back of the book at the tiny photo of Darren Washington. "Hey, Rose, I'm way hotter than this guy."  
"Oh yeah, I'm sure," same the voice of Rose. "As far as I'm concerned we should have done this a long time ago." She cackled evilly and revved the engine of Mack's huge red zord. "Put the book down and get out of my way."

"If you insist," Mack replied, dropping the book onto the zord bay floor and scurrying a safe distance away to watch. "More power to you."

And Rose backed the zord's wheels over _Letters to Sydney_, still smiling evilly. The poor book was smashed to a pulp. Rose laughed yet again and got out of the zord, picking up what remained of the romance novel. "You know, Mack, you're right. You are way better looking and way sweeter. What _was_ I thinking?"

"In all fairness, he probably has a black eye now," Mack commented vaguely. Rose stared up at him.

"Why? What did you do, Mack?"

Mack merely grinned at Rose. "I may have punched Darren in the face before I went after you earlier. He had it coming," he added upon seeing Rose's expression.

All Rose could do was kiss him again.


End file.
